Death Beyond Death
by LunarCry
Summary: My take on the Rinoa=Ultimecia conspiracy theory. Full of angst and bitterness, but challenges your emotions as well as Rinoa's.
1. The End of the Beginning

This is a purely theoretical look at what might have happened to change Rinoa into Ultimecia. No flames on how the theory is screwed up, please, 'cause whatever you say won't change my mind ^^ 

Maybe it didn't happen this way. It doesn't even fit into the rest of my fanfics about FFVIII, but I just felt the need to write this.   


**Death Beyond Death**   
~LunarCry~   


**_The End of The Beginning_**

The gunblade lay gleaming on top of the coffin, almost mocking me. 

It looked brand new. 

Even when he'd become too weak to use it, he hadn't neglected it for a second. An hour at least of every day had been spent with him taking it apart, dusting it down, polishing it until it shone like a mirror. 

He'd hated it. Watching me as his skills degenerated, I had felt his bitterness. It hadn't been aimed at me, I know, but it hurt all the same. Everything was painful these days . . . there was nothing joyous in this world anymore. Nothing. 

I filled up again, the tears inside me a flood of despair that threatened to tear me apart. The silence in the room was so heavy that it weighed me down. No one dared to speak. No one knew what to say. What could they say? 

I remember once . . . so long ago . . . he'd been angry over the thought of people talking about him in past tense. Now it was for real. The cause of that conversation was long gone . . . the people who had contributed to it departed from this world. 

Except for me. 

There I stood, alone. Countless people had come to pay their respects to the man who had saved their world. I could count a dozen or so that I recognised . . . two or three that I knew personally, that knew me as more than 'his wife' or 'one of the heroes'. 

My fists clenched at my sides. As ever, my sorrow refused to reveal itself in that guise - it oozed from my body as an uncontrollable anger. 

The world had begun to spin. I turned dizzily, ignoring the gasps of bystanders, people shouting my name. I ignored them, staggering outside, sucking in deep breaths of air. 

A smear of red in my blurred vision. 

I made for it, my legs like lead and my brain even heavier. The gangplank was down, and I stumbled up the steps, slamming the control to close it behind me. I was being pursued. Why did they follow me? They wouldn't . . . they _couldn't_ know how hard this was for me . . . 

Somehow I reached the cockpit. The journey there seemed non-existent. The seats of the ship just appeared before me, and I slumped into one, pulling at buttons automatically. Oh God . . . Selphie had taught me how . . . 

Tears burst from my eyes violently, streaming down my face, and I was racked with wretched sobs so painful, so loud that the roar of take-off was lost. I set a course for the place I longed for, curled up into a foetal position, and cried myself to sleep. 

*** 

A soft, insistent beeping woke me from dreamless, distant sleep. I roused, my head still heavy and my face sticky with tears, and switched the noise off. I saw that I was there, and stood up shakily, almost crawling to the gangplank in my lethargy. 

It opened, and daylight flooded inside. Blinking, I descended the stairs, making my way towards the crumbling stone building that lay in the near distance. 

The Orphanage. 

How long had I been asleep? It felt like years . . . time had little relevance any more. The grey house near the sea was little more than a ruin now. Edea and Cid had renovated it, a long time ago, but they too were gone, buried within. 

It had been a while since I'd visited this place. My hand reached for the cold walls as I walked slowly towards the field, the field where he'd _promised_ me . . . 

The 'field' could barely be described as one now. Most of the flowers were dead. Edea and Cid lay in bitter eternity under the flagstone floor in the main room, but another grave stood here. It had been covered with grass and flowers when I'd last came here. Now it was just a mound of bare earth with a stone plaque beside it. 

I dropped to my knees before the tomb, breathing harshly. 

The plaque said, simply, 'Angelo'. 

Memories tugged at my heartstrings, making me retch. How could this be? My friends had held on as long as they could, as loathe to leave me behind as they were to die under any circumstance. But nature had claimed them all in the end. Even Squall . . . 

I closed my eyes. Weakness washed over me, and I lowered my head, trying to focus. 

"Rinoa." 

The voice came from behind, and I turned groggily. 

There were five SeeDs there. I knew each one of them. I also thought of them as young, but they were not. Middle-aged maybe, I didn't care. Age meant nothing to me anymore. 

The sight of them was actually painful. Little Ilfie, not so little any longer, her green eyes wide with compassion. Timmy, Meila, Ayeda, all watching me closely with their blazing blue eyes. I refused to even look at the fifth SeeD. 

"You've . . . grown so," I whispered. "They . . . would be proud." 

That caused ripples. The triplets glanced at each other. I could see the fond memories in their gazes. Images of a young, boisterous blond-haired kid lanced painfully through my mind. A gasp didn't dispel the flashback, which was followed by a smooth-talking Galbadian tilting his hat at me; a bouncy, vibrant girl with eyes as green as her daughter's . . . A tall, willowy woman, so much younger than she'd ever acted. 

"Mom . . ." 

The fifth SeeD spoke up gently. I looked at him, at his soft grey eyes and his feathery brown hair . . . 

"Why did you have to look so much like _him_?" I hissed through clenched teeth. Tsu blinked, his cool composure lost for a moment. 

"Mom, won't you come back to the Garden with us?" 

"Is that how you got here?" 

It was suddenly very hard to speak. 

Tsu glanced at his friends, and then back at me. Very cautiously, he started moving towards me, stooping to a crouch when he reached my pathetic figure. The expression on his face told me everything: he knew what was going to happen, how close I was to the brink. 

"Stop this," he said simply. 

I looked up at him with disbelief in my eyes. "Stop this? _Stop this?_ What do you think I'm trying to do, Tsu? Don't crowd me!" 

Tsu laid a hand on my shoulder. 

"Don't torture yourself over this . . ." 

I slapped his hand away. 

"How would you know? How the hell would you know what I went through? Watching every day as your father . . . all of your parents . . . grew older and older! I'm seventy-four, now, Tsu! _And I still look like I'm seventeen!_ If I had known my sorceress powers would do this to me . . . I would have _asked_ to be sealed away! At least then I would never have to remember!" 

Tsu was astonished by my outburst. It's a curse of mine that I find myself unable to be sad most of the time . . . just angry, blaming whatever comes to mind for anything bad that happens to me. I hated myself for saying such a thing to my own son . . . to my friends' children, whom I had felt obliged to protect, once upon a time. 

But loneliness creeps up on you. 

I settled my gaze on Tsu, and felt a weak smile forming on my lips. Squall . . . he'd been so surprised when I'd told him about our child. But after Tsu had been born, he'd changed . . . mellowed, even. Tsu had made him whole. Finally, after so long trying to open him up, I'd succeeded in the strangest way. Sure, Squall had been hard on the child . . . but Tsu had always understood why. The legendary SeeD's pride in his son had finally made him the lion he'd always longed to be. 

God, I missed him. His absence was like a hole in my heart, in my soul, in my _reality_. 

Has there ever been a sorceress who has remained pure and true? I still don't know. I _did_ know that it was so very hard to stay sane when all your friends wither and die around you, and you are forced to live on. 

"How can I pass on my powers if I don't die?" I breathed. "How can I die if I can't pass on my powers?" 

"What?" 

Nodding to myself, I stood up, leaning against the wall for support. I looked Tsu directly in the eye, and then at the gunblade hanging from his belt. 

I smiled. 

"You brought that weapon for a reason, didn't you, Tsu?" I turned to the others. "You all did, didn't you?" 

My son cast his gaze downwards, not guiltily but as if assuring himself. "Mom . . . we can't risk it. There's a reason that there has never been a good sorceress before." 

"SeeD still has a job to do, doesn't it." 

"This is more than a job, Rinoa," Ilfie said softly. "It's a favour." 

"No, it's still a job. The Gardens were formed to kill sorceresses, weren't they?" 

Tsu shook his head. "Most sorceresses were perfectly normal before they turned evil. You know why they turned, don't you?" 

I sighed, nodding. "But I can't let you do it." 

"Why? What have you got left to lose?" 

Abruptly, I laughed. They stared at me nervously. 

"You, for a start, Tsu. And . . . there are other reasons." 

"What reasons?" 

"I once said . . . that'd it'd be okay if he did it . . . no one else. It _has_ to be his gunblade that pierces my heart! No one else!" 

The power was beginning to surge through my veins. I bit my lip, trying to suppress it. 

"Squall is dead!" 

"No! He can't be!" I whirled, running into the dead field. "He _promised_ me." 

Brown grass and knotted weeds tried to trip me as I dashed into the centre. Memories of Squall burned in my mind. 

_"If you come here, you'll find me. I promise."_

"Rinoa! Come back!" 

_My own child . . . wants to kill me._

"Mom! _Please_, let me end it for you!" 

Blood roared in my ears. White-hot pain flared in my upper back. 

"This is so hard for me, too! They could seal you again, if you want! Dad told me . . . he told me what to do. We just can't risk the power . . ." 

Feathers rained down on me. I clamped my hands over my ears, collapsing to my knees. Anger once again pounded through me. 

_I . . . don't . . . want . . . to . . . die . . . Squall, what happened to your promise? You said you'd always be here for me . . . you said you wouldn't let me get . . . out of hand . . . Squall, you . . ._

"You _promised_!" I screamed, so hard that blood vessels burst in my eyes and my lungs seemed to explode, and then the power was surging out of me, igniting around me. There were screams, always the screams, screams I never wanted to hear. With the power came the memories, memories from before my time, from past reigns of terror, led by past sorceresses. I had never given into it before . . . but a sorceress needs her knight to stop her from falling over the edge. 

My knight was dead. 

_Stop it!_

But my power didn't want to listen. An ever-increasing dome of energy expanded around me, submerging the field in madness. Sobbing, I tried to pull it back. I never meant to let it out, not ever! Time . . . it had stretched my heart and soul to the limit . . . 

_"RINOA! STOP! YOU'RE GOING TO -"_

When Timmy's voice broke off, I panicked. Practically dragging the magic back inside me, I collapsed, breathing raggedly, my face against the hard earth and my eyes wide with fear. My wings drooped down, softly touching the floor. My pain had turned the tips of each feather a darker colour. 

Oh God! 

"Tsu! _TSU_!" 

Without even thinking, I leapt to my feet and charged across the field. My blood turned to ice when I spotted the five figures lying motionless outside the Orphanage's main room. 

I reached Tsu first. 

The tears came soon after.   
  



	2. The Beginning of the End

  
  


**_The Beginning of The End_**

I have watched them. 

They generally come in droves, tiny little soldier ants scrambling up the Chain. How many more of them could be left? 

I laugh. The sound is bitter. It doesn't matter how many more they send, for I have reached my goal. Ellone's power is mine, and I can have what I desire. 

_Time Compression._

Finally . . . after centuries of that eternal agony, I can free myself, and free these pitiful mortals from their pathetic little lives. There will be screams, and then there will be silence, and then I will be free. 

I stand on the bridge before my antechamber, and if I look down I can see the corpses of those I have killed. Strewn along the Chain, along the bloodstained ground it is bolted to, where there is a place that once meant so much to me . . . 

Stars. There are stars above me, floating in an endless vista of black. They mock me, for they once meant something, too. If I could wave a hand and send them all crashing to the ocean, I would, because they are lies and I hate them. I hate them almost as much as I hate SeeD. They have fought for centuries and yet they have not won, but _still_ they fling themselves relentlessly at me. 

See? 

There are some now, ascending the Chain. I consider sending Tiamat down to rend them asunder and spread them across the heavy iron links, just like all the others who have attempted to get this far, but I reject the pleasant idea. 

Let them try and get me before I initiate Time Compression. One last fight. I won't have to wait long for it to begin, so what does it matter? 

So I will humour them. 

And then they will die. 

*** 

Six of them? 

I frown. 

What good would six SeeDs do, even if they made it to my Castle? 

And then something registers as I observe their speedy progress. 

"It's _them_!" I shriek, and blast the walls with my anger, scrawling with fire across the Castle, screaming my fury. 

The seals have already been broken; my guardians destroyed. As a team the SeeDs are efficient and they are strong. They search for me, and even now they climb the clock tower, seeking vengeance, seeking justice, seeking redemption. I have killed so many, and they alone have shared the beginning. The rookie sorceress, the rookie SeeDs . . . I will KILL them. They will DIE and they will SCREAM. 

And they are HERE. 

All six of them. I look at them all in turn, scornfully, hatefully. My worn black wings twitch in annoyance. 

"SeeD," I hiss, and then laugh bitterly. "SeeD . . . SeeD . . . SeeD, SeeD, SeeD! _Curse_ all SeeDs! Swarming like _locusts_ across generations." 

My gaze fixes on the woman in blue, the sorceress of their time. Something within me stirs - memories rouse in my mind, covered for so long by my pain and my fury. And . . . the SeeD in black, with the greyish-brown hair and the greyish-blue eyes . . . 

Pain! 

Unlike anything before! 

It streaks through me, and my heart seems to burst inside my chest and fill my body with blood and fire. I grimace, gripping the arms of my throne tighter with my gnarled, clawing fingers. 

It's _him_. I cannot harm him now! But . . . he left me alone. He _promised_. 

And then left me! 

"The world is on the brink of that ever-elusive _Time Compression_." I smile crookedly, and pant raggedly. I have not heard my own voice for so long, and it sounds crabbed and wicked, hollow, inhuman. What has happened to me? This is _his_ fault! 

"Insolent fools! The price of your meddling will be death beyond death! Your vain crusade ends here, SeeDs." 

I rise, and we fight. I haven't much longer to wait. Time Compression is arriving in this time. No doubt that's how these creatures found their way here. Well, soon, everything will be simple. 

But they are strong! _Him_ in particular. His gunblade scores my flesh, and the physical pain feels strange. When his eyes focus on my contorted face, on my spiteful form, I see _hatred_, and it is akin to him plunging a brand into my haggard soul. I fight because I hate him. I hate him because he hates me, because he . . . does . . . not . . . know . . . me . . . 

My hand flies to the silver ring locked on the middle finger of my left hand. 

"The most powerful GF . . ." I rasp. "You shall _suffer_!" 

As I have done for so long . . . 

"Griever! Make them _bleed_!" I howl, and they do not see, but tears spill from my wild eyes, tumbling down my twisted face. 

As Griever makes his appearance, I stumble back, hands clawing at my body. The magic has warped it so. I know that I am old, _very_ old. I don't know a number, but I'm old in more than years. I was not like this once. I was young, and I was beautiful, and I was sincere. But age has increased my power tenfold . . . or is that hatred? So much hate did this to me . . . 

Griever is falling. I call to him. We cannot fail! We are nearly there. It is coming. Even now it consumes the edges of the fabric of this time period, and I feel its presence. Time Compression . . . I must end this before it devours _everything_. 

I junction myself unto Griever. With his strength, I am renewed. My body twists even more, but it is a price that must be paid. I must win. _I must win_. 

We fight. We endure. But the SeeDs will not give up. I knock one down, spirit them away into the ever-increasing folds of time that weigh down upon this last safe place like a thousand eternities. I laugh, but the others just become more determined, more enraged. 

_He_ tears through me once more with his weapon, and Griever, wounded, flees my body. It is now no more than a shattered shell containing my tortured soul, so I leave it behind, I release it, and burst from above in the hollow, faceless, inhuman body that is what I have become. Time Compression merges with me, drowning me. But I join with it, I use it, I slow it down, make it wait. This must be savoured. 

"I am Ultimecia." 

My previous body swinging like a corpse below me, I try to shed tears, but I have no eyes anymore. There is a gaping hole where they should be, my mind laid bare before them. 

"Time _shall_ compress. All existence denied." 

I expect them to give in, to cease this futile battle. It is already over for them. But no . . . they have to continue, and in a way I understand. While there is strength left in them, they will not quit. 

I summon the Apocalypse. Fire rains and sears the void that is all that is left of this time. My very presence here is saving their lives right now. I wonder if they know that. 

_He_ fights on. By now I know that it is not going to end the way I had planned. 

I want him to remember what he did to me. I want to remember what he did to me. 

"Reflect on your . . . childhood," I tell them. Another blow is struck against my weakening shell. 

"Your sensation . . ." 

Another. 

"Your words . . . Your emotions . . ." 

And another. 

I am bleeding. 

I am dying. 

"Time . . ." Now I am crying, sobbing tearlessly, because I can remember. My memories fill my empty soul and scald it. "It will not wait." 

And another blow. 

"No matter . . . how hard you hold on . . . it escapes you . . ." 

Another. 

I want to tell him. I plan to tell him. I look down at the SeeD who means more than everything to me . . . 

"And . . ." 

He strikes, and I suddenly cannot finish the sentence. I lose my grip on the Time Compression as I die, and we are consumed. Everything turns white. 

*** 

I am drifting. 

I know . . . I know I am dead. 

And I think I finally understand why I wanted this so much. 

There is nothing here. Nothing. Only I could ever have existed freely in the sparse nothingness, bolstered by the compressed power of every other sorceress before me, but now I am dead, so Time Compression has occurred and it is empty. 

But . . . no. I hear echoes of their voices. They survived, and they are _still here_. 

He never did anything to me, I know that now. He left me alone, but it was not his fault. He hung on as long as he could. I was a burden to him, in the end. He probably never rested, even in death, knowing that I was still out here, suffering endlessly. My sorceress powers never did let me go. They purged me of my humanity and turned me into a monster. The theory of a Sorceress' Knight sounds good . . . but it's too impractical to work. A Knight could never outlast his Sorceress. I remember . . . when I first saw . . . Edea? I thought: How young she looks! And I was surprised when I found out how old she really was . . . and noticed how the years seemed to pile back on her mere months after the incident . . . an incident _I_ caused! It's all my fault . . . but if I had not done this, then I would never have met _him_ in the first place . . . Why must I be tormented this way? My hands are so stained with the blood of the innocent that I _hate myself_, and what I have become. Death is too kind for me! 

I can see The End, but I cannot reach it. It is as if a tether is holding me back, pinning me to the pain-filled world of the living. Oh yes, there is something I must do . . . 

I hear his voice. 

I seek it out. 

I open my eyes. I'm back here, back at the site of that ill-fated Promise. He is here. Edea is here. 

He sees me, and he draws his weapon. 

_God_, that hurts. So much more than anything else. 

I can barely hear their words with my battered, human body, so I simply stagger forward. Edea watches me thoughtfully. _His_ eyes are filled with hatred. 

"I . . . can't . . . disappear yet," I whisper, and the heavy burden that weighs me down suddenly bursts from my decrepit body. Edea gasps, receiving that load, and I try to tell her that I am sorry for doing this to her, but of course, she cannot hear me. 

I am finally dying. It's funny . . . I've waited so long for this day, and yet, now that it has arrived, I wish I had a few more moments. But I'm falling. It's getting darker. I can see The End. 

He is tending to Edea. Not me, the person he once loved. Still loves. I think I'm confused. The happy ending that awaits him after this doesn't last nearly long enough . . . 

Squall. 

For one breathtaking second, he looks me straight in the eye. Did he hear? The ground is getting closer. 

Squall, I'm sorry. 

I never meant for it to be this way. I caused so much pain, so much death. 

I did it . . . I did it because . . . 

Because you left me. 

Because I was lonely. 

Because I always made someone else take the blame. 

Because . . . 

Because I love you. 

And everything gets dark. I offer one final excuse. Or, maybe, one final explanation. My love, you can decide which. 

Because 

I 

am 

Rinoa 

And for me . . . 

This is . . . 

_The End._   
  



End file.
